


Meet the Dolls(es?)

by convolutedConcussion



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Um ???, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:38:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7325965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convolutedConcussion/pseuds/convolutedConcussion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the same universe as (and kind of a quasi-sequel to) <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7316173">Get Out Of Jail Free</a>.</p><p>Thanksgiving!  With Dolls' family!  That shouldn't be awkward at all...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet the Dolls(es?)

It starts like this:  Dolls is looking at his phone one minute, the next he turns to her and says, “So, Thanksgiving is coming up.”

“In the US,” she answers, frowning.

“Yeah, there,” he mutters, pocketing the phone.  “My sisters want to know if you’re—we’re coming.”  When she doesn’t respond, he continues, “You don’t have to.  They just wanna know.”

“We should go,” Wynonna says suddenly, voice a little cracked.  “It’s one day, and it’s been forever since you’ve seen them.  If you _don’t_ go, they won’t let either of us live with it.”  She grins.  “Especially me.”

“That’s true,” he reasons.

“Plus, they have the resources to make me disappear.  No one wants that,” she points out.  There’s a quick flash of a smile on his lips, warm and bright enough that it almost hurts, before she can’t _not_ be kissing him.  They move slowly, comfortably against one another—until the door opens.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to make out in the station anymore,” Nicole remarks, deadpan.

“Please don’t report me to my boss,” Wynonna replies, feigning horror.

She gets an exasperated smile in return.  “Back to work,” the cop states eventually, quirking a brow.  “Just got a call.”

\--

Before she was able to escape, Waverly had asked her if she was nervous before dropping them off at the airport, and Wynonna lies.  Well, she sputters lamely about how she’s got nothing to be nervous about.  As she’s boarding, Dolls in front of her, the full force of sickening anxiety starts roiling in her gut.  Somehow, he’d managed to get the window seat, and she collapses into the middle seat next to him.  She mutters about how she got the short straw but smiles when he takes her hand.

“You’re freaking out,” he mumbles.

“I’m not freaking out,” she scoffs.  He stares her down for a moment.  “I’m a _little_ nervous, I’m not _freaking out_.”

“You’ve already talked to all of my sisters, they’re the scariest ones,” he assures her.

Except, he’s gotta know that’s not remotely the same thing.  Trading emails and quick texts with them and sharing a family meal—that she’s flying thousands of miles to attend—are _really different_.  And—and she’s never done this sort of thing before!  Sue her!  It’s not like her life has allowed her many chances for… whatever _this_ is.  She doesn’t know how to do it.  And while she has _loved_ getting every email (she was _never_ gonna get all this juicy information about the guy on her own), she is, yeah, hella nervous.

“It’s gonna be _fine_ ,” he soothes.  “You’d know if they hated you.”

Not all that comforting.

\--

The sky is _just_ turning purple with dawn when their plane lands.

“Why did we opt for that ridiculous flight?” she yawns, bumping into him as they leave the terminal, bags slung over their shoulders.

“Because we currently live in a demon hotbed,” he answers lightly.

Groaning, she lets herself be pushed by the flood of people out to baggage claim.  “Who’s picking us up?”

“Kit or Jean,” he replies, craning around.  “Pray it’s Kit—we’d never find Jean.”

Raising a dubious eyebrow, she peers around even though she has no idea who she’s looking for.  Lucky for her, they brought a sign.  She tugs Dolls’ sleeve and points, mumbling, “I think I found her.”

The big piece of poster board, held above the heads of darting travelers, just has the name Wynonna scrawled across it.  They weave their way through the crowd, coming to a stop in front of the sign, and the small woman holding it over her head.  She drops it to throw herself into Dolls’ arms, and he lifts her up with a quick burst of laughter.  When she drops back to her feet, she turns on Wynonna.

“I’m Jean,” she smiles, offering a hand.

“Ah, the one I’m supposed to be afraid of,” Wynonna laughs.

“You bet.”

\--

Wynonna gets to sit in the front seat, but _immediately_ regrets that as soon as the questions start.

“What’s your family like?” Jean presses, eyes on the road.

“Um, it’s just me and my younger sister,” she mumbles, looking back at Dolls who is conveniently engrossed in something on his phone.  “We have an aunt, but that’s about it.”

“Your parents?”

“Jean!”

“It’s fine,” she placates.  “Uh, our dad’s dead.  I dunno where our mother is.”

“I’m sorry,” Jean responds, sounding sincere.  “What did you do before my brother recruited you?”

“Searched Europe for true love,” Wynonna says as seriously as she can.  “It’s the only thing that’ll break the curse.”

Behind them, Dolls snorts.

“You’re not crazy, are you?”

“Only once or twice,” she laughs.  “Not in the Fatal Attraction way.”

\--

She should have expected the heat.  There’s already snow on the ground in Purgatory, but it’s practically summer here.  She brought a suitably light top, but it doesn’t stop how warm it is from being a surprise.  The sun’s up by the time they get to the house, large but not grand, bright and almost hot, and she’s regretting her choices already.  She looks back at Dolls again, catches the small smile he’s wearing.  It makes something flutter in her chest.  She’d expected for that feeling to stop after a while, but he still does that to her.  As they’re getting their stuff unloaded, the front door swings open and three women—one at least a familiar face—come pouring out.

“I can’t believe hot runs in your family,” Wynonna murmurs quietly when he hands her her bag.

“Please don’t call my sisters hot,” he begs, pained.

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair,” she teases.

Raven and the others—who she’s assuming are Laurel and Kit—crowd around him first, hugging him and pinching his cheeks with mocking affection.  One of them, tall and ethereal with a great big pregnant belly, breaks away to descend on Wynonna with a quick hug.

“I’m Laurel, I’m so glad we finally get to see you—in person,” she says, voice low and sweet.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” she responds automatically, feeling out of place.  The last one she doesn’t recognize comes near, takes her hand when she offers it.  “And you’re Kit?”

“Yep,” she pops, smiling.

“You ready to introduce her to Mom and Dad?” Raven asks, grinning widely and not doing _anything_ to soothe Wynonna’s anxiety.

\--

Inside, there are children bolting around, squealing and laughing around the legs of the handful of adults who stop chattering as soon as they enter.  Introductions are made.  She tries to keep a list in her head—Laurel’s husband, Omar; Kit’s fiancé, John; Raven’s partner, Adrienne; Aunt Jo and her eldest, Jen; Aunt Marie and Uncle Tony—but soon she just starts running out of room.

“You don’t have to memorize them all,” Kit whispers to her.  “Half of the people you meet today will ask you a dozen times what your name is before dinner’s over.  The other half are just as likely to get it wrong.”

They make their way through the house and into the kitchen, where there’s a man who looks almost exactly like Dolls— _her_ Dolls—and a woman whose eyes hold the same cool steel as Raven’s.  Wynonna’s given a quick shove forward.

“So, this is Wynonna,” Dolls says carefully, hand solid in the middle of her back.

“Ah, yes, the young woman who killed our son,” his mother replies, amused.

“That’d be me, but I had some help,” Wynonna laughs uneasily, tossing a quick look back at Raven.

\--

There’s a growing list of things she didn’t expect.  She didn’t expect the family to be this _huge_ , or this happy, or have this many children.  She didn’t expect someone to distractedly push a toddler in her hands while they dug in their purse.  She _definitely_ didn’t expect Dolls to go all… loose.  She’s seen him smile, and laugh, and joke, but there’s always something he’s holding.  It’s kind of just amazing to watch him relax and chat and snatch up a shrieking kid.  She lets Kit and Jean drag her away at some point, late in the morning, promising gold and delivering a stack of photo albums and yearbooks.

They end up cross-legged on the floor of a bedroom, while Kit points out pictures, telling the stories she remembers that go with them.  When they get to the teenage years, Wynonna laughs so hard she cries—stories of a power-lifting, Dungeons&Dragons playing kid she barely recognizes draw making her double over, make her ribs ache.  Next to her, Jean grips her arm and fairly screams with laughter. 

“Do we—Do we still have that video from graduation?” she gasps.  She looks at Wynonna earnestly and explains, “You know, he was trying to do like this, I dunno, he was trying to _move_ after getting called up and he’s wearing dress shoes so he just _falls_ , oh it’s so bad.”

By the time the door bursts open, Wynonna’s got a stitch in her side that shrieks with pain at every breath.  Dolls heaves a mournful sigh, “How did I know?”

Both sisters have matching unapologetic stares.

“That was the last one for now,” Kit grins.  “We’ll need something to talk about next time.”

Face heating, she watches him roll his eyes.

\--

Crushed around the table that she thinks may be groaning under the weight of all that food between Dolls and Jean, Wynonna eats until she feels like she’s gonna explode.  She endures another round of questioning, feeling more and more like she’s being interrogated, until Dolls pipes and tells everyone he’ll send her docket out when they’re back in Purgatory.  At that, she elbows him.  He looks over and nudges her knee under the table.  She scrunches her nose.

Someone starts to tell an embarrassing story and he interrupts, “Did I mention this was the one who handcuffed me to a car?”

Across the table, Raven _howls_.  “You’re right, we’d much rather hear _that_ one,” she chokes.

He heaves a hard breath.

In spite of being so full she can barely move, Wynonna jumps at the offer of pie.  Figuratively.  She’s pretty sure she’s gonna need to be carried to bed on as stretcher.

After dinner, Wynonna begs off football in the back yard, instead choosing to slump on the covered back porch next to Laurel.  They watch the game silently.  Wynonna’s still actually feeling really bizarre, so she finds she doesn’t mind the quiet.  It’s comfortable, anyway.  Laurel is a calming presence, it’s actually a little freaky. 

\--

Before going off to bed, all four of Dolls’ sisters corner her to give her the standard if-you-hurt-our-brother-no-one-will-find-the-body talk.  Thoroughly convinced of the consequences of any bad choices, Wynonna changes quietly, still sluggish with all the food she ate.  She’s pretty sure she’s never gonna recover.  When she turns, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her.

Smile soft, she settles next to him and whispers, “I think we’re official.  Your sisters threatened my life.”

“I thought you were official when it became a thing on Facebook,” he replies.

“If it makes you feel better, I can change my relationship status,” she murmurs into his shoulder, resting there for just a moment.  “So,” she says, “How’d I do?”

Humming, he climbs into bed and tugs her along with him.  “I think you did alright,” he muses.  He looks down at her when she props her chin on his chest.  His fingers skim through her hair.  “It’s actually kind of weird—they seem to like you a lot.”

“Right?” she chuckles.  “Even you took _months_ to warm up to me.”

“That’s not true,” he breathes.  In the dark, her lips find his, and she sighs contentedly.  “We should get some rest,” he mumbles, and at least he _sounds_ regretful.  “Early flight.”

Groaning softly, she rolls away from him.  He moves with her, arm around her middle.  “I can’t believe you expect me to be conscious enough to travel by four in the morning two days in a row,” she huffs.  “Revs or no Revs, this is cruel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Right so this actually just sprang from a conversation I was having about the sisters and then Thanksgiving happened? Mostly I just think it's a cool idea and want Dolls to have a big family and I wanted him to be happy and comfortable--and really after the finale can you blame me???
> 
> Anyway, Syfy can feel free to take this and run with it--give my sweet love some happiness.
> 
> Check out my [Tumblr](http://johnisntevendead.tumblr.com) where I cry and post pictures of my dog and beg for attention.


End file.
